Futile
by Casteline
Summary: After all these years, Jess still knows exactly how to find her. Part Three of eight.


_I don't own, yada yada yada._

_Sequel to Letters and Autobiography. You don't have to read them, but it's better if you do (pardon the P!ATD reference)._

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**003. Futile**

The beach was empty now. A few months and an hour before and it would have been crowded beyond belief. But it's January now. Far too cold for any sane person.

But she likes it better this way. She wants only to be alone.

When she closes her eyes, the sun is just beginning to set. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the salty sea air. Her toes curl into the sand.

She doesn't open her eyes for what feels like eternity. The wind blows through her hair and the incoming tide rushes over her feet, the runs away again, only to come back moments later.

But still she does nothing but stand there, eyes closed, as she breathes in the world around her.

"I knew someone would come looking," she says to the figure behind her. She hadn't heard him approach, but somehow she knew.

"Did you think anyone would find you?" he asks, joining her at her side.

"Yes. I knew that if you wanted to find me, you would."

"That's what your mother said."

"She's a smart woman that Lorelai Gilmore."

They were both quiet for a while, when finally curiosity overcame him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Standing, breathing, living. Take your pick."

"No, I mean, what are you doing _here_? In Vancouver."

"I've been all over the world. Seen some extraordinary places. But I've never seen Vancouver."

"Because there's nothing in Vancouver. Except rain, a few bad Canadian television sets, and more rain. There is nothing here."

"Exactly," she says, turning and smiling at him. Then she turned back and started out at the deep black ocean. They each lowered themselves into the sand, Rory not taking her eyes off the water, Jess not taking his eyes off her. Then he tore himself away and began staring out into the ocean.

They sat like this for quite some time, neither saying a word, neither needing to, as they watched waves crash onto the beach, onto their feet.

Jess turned to star at her once more, wondering how it could possibly be true.

"How long?" he finally asked.

"Doesn't matter," she said.

"How can you say that?" he asked. "How can you act like you'll just fade away and everyone will forget you."

"That's exactly how it will happen," she said.

"And to think, you're one of the most confident people I know," he muttered to himself.

She turned to him. "If you came here just to try and drag me home, you're wasting your time." Once again, she turned to look at the water.

"Oh, I know that. Lorelai wanted me to try and get you to go home, but even she knew it was futile."

"Good."

"I have to ask," he begins a few moments later. "Why are you doing this? Why didn't you just stay with your family?"

"Jess, you have to understand. There is nothing anyone can do. I _am _going to die. They can't do anything."

"But you could at least spend what you have left with the people who love you."

"No, I can't."

"Why not? What's stopping you?"

"Don't you get it? It's easier this way-"

"Easier for you," he interrupted.

"No. Easier for them. Look, I don't know how much time I have left. I could die tomorrow, in a week, in a month. There's no way of knowing. This way, they all have the chance to say goodbye. If I had stuck around, things would still be normal, everyday would be like it's always been. Then when I drop dead one day, no one will have had the chance to say good bye."

"Don't you think they'd like to spend some more time with you though?"

"Yeah. But if the cancer reaches into my brain, and the doctors say it will, I'll be a different person. It could make me mean, rude, boring. God, what if it makes me stupid? Or worse, what if I start acting like Kirk? I can't have their last memories of me like. I want them to remember me the way I was, before all this. Not as a shell."

The explanation seemed to be enough for him because the subject was effectively dropped.

"You know what amazes me?" he asked several minutes later.

"You're very talkative today," she pointed out.

"You're so cool with this. I mean, most people would at least react. Hell, they've made whole movies about what people do when they find out they're dying."

"Mom and I started our own bucket lists when I was nine. I'd done everything on it by the time I was 27. Well, almost. And for that matter, I've done almost everything on Morgan Freeman's list too."

"You've kissed the most beautiful girl in the world?" Jess could help but ask.

"I said _almost._" They both laughed.

"I guess I just don't see the need to freak out," she began a few moments later. "I mean, yeah, I'm gonna die. But everyone does that eventually. I'm just going out a little sooner. And I'm happy with my life. There are a few things I'd change if I could, but I can't, so why bother thinking about it?"

Jess seemed to understand what she was saying, and once again let the subject go.

"I'm glad you're here," Rory said.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Because you're the only person I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to."

"No," he said firmly.

"What do you mean 'no'? You can't just say 'no' like that."

"No," he says again. "I refuse to say goodbye."

"Fine, you don't have to. But I'm saying it anyway."

"Well I'm not listening. And saying it would be pointless because I'm not leaving anyway."

"You have to."

"No," he says once more.

"You're very 'devil's advocate' today, aren't you?"

But Jess doesn't laugh, or even crack a smile.

"I'm serious," he says. "I'm not leaving."

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**_I'm thinking there will be two more parts to this, then it's over. I'm not totally sure about that, so don't hold me to it, but thats' as far as I think it can go without getting terrible._**

**_Reviews please!_**


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